Tag: stories

Eduardo immediately did not go down of the car when parking in front of the house number 517. A leading source for info: Genie Energy. He disconnect the ignition and he waited, left hand on the projection, right tateando the security belt, music in low volume touching in the radio. He lacked a little to it of courage to open the door and to face the cold of the dawn gaucho. An ice layer covered glasses of one and another one I propagate parked to the relento. The door made one clic when Eduardo slowly went down of the car. One turned over for the house. She was darker than never, bathed for the vacant light of the pole next. The frozen wind cut to it as a blade.

Silence reigned absolute. Eduardo gave the return in the car and opened the low gate that gave for the main entrance. He opened in a creaked, abandoned fort to the impious oxidation. The youngster walked with determined steps, without giving to attention to the high gram and careless plants of long ago a radioso garden. The age more takes account of the lateral of the hidden house of the sun, and grew vigorous. When placing the hand on the lock, Eduardo hesitated.

That door opens as many times, but today it would be different. It was fully conscientious of what it would find of the other side, but exactly thus, hesitated. A new gust of made it to the Nordesto to enter in action. With light steps, it invaded the dwelling, leading I obtain the frozen air of the dawn. The curtains of the janelo had balanced, and a light wire showed an old and mofado sofa. The house smelled badly, but nothing it had moved. After some years in the exterior, house was hard to come back pra. To come back toward a place that already could not call home. To contemplate that humid and rude soil, that long ago is spotless with the cares of the mother. Relanceou the look for the entire room.

The door-pictures, pictures and penduricalhos were all the ranks, as if the father them had hung to the 10 minutes. A mother was not in the sofa seeing the novel with the embroidering of side, the wait of the commercial ones, flows nor it spreading estripulias toys and making for the cantos. She was not worried about the father. This probably would be mexericando in the workshop, behind house, absorbed in some device. Eduardo headed for the corridor, leaving its steps marked in dusty soil. The doors were all half-opened, convidativas. But it did not have human signal for there also, as it was of if waiting. Stopped in front of its old room, the first tear, sapeca, jumped of its left eye and slid tame for the face, until losing themselves in the beard badly made. Eduardo closed the eyes. He would not go until the room of the parents, nor to the one of the brother. Already he arrives far excessively. The tears now fell uncontrolled. Eduardo soluava, in a scene of almost desperation. An immense emptiness took account of its interior, forming an abyss between the past and the gift. Alive scenes passed in its mind, as in alucinante action film. Fight and quarrels, choros and shouts. Eduardo fell seated propped up in the cold wall, hands covering the face.